Tornadoland
by bisexualcharliedavis
Summary: A collection of drabbles/fics in no particular order set in my alt timeline au in which Lawson and Jean are farmers, Charlie is their ward and Blake is still in the army. (Charlie/Mattie)
1. Long Time Gone Now

A/N: another anthology style fic that's more a drabble collection then anything else. If you follow me on tumblr then you've probably read some of the backstory to this au, but If not, then consider it something of an alt timeline where Blake never left the army, and Lawson brought Jean's farm. Warnings: death mentions (very light)

Major Lucien Blake had always hated Ballarat. He trudged up the walkway towards the battered farm house, taking note of the worn down weatherboard, and the red dust that seemed to have settled into everything and anything. This farm, from what he understood, was owned by Matthew Lawson. Matthew had served in the war, before retiring from the army to come home, and brought the farm off of Jean Beazley, who, from what he knew, still worked on the property.

Matthew had been involved in a poorly reported accident almost a year ago, and lost one of his legs, so from what he understood, the finances were mostly done by a Charlie Davis, and Beazley looked over most of the actual farm work. An interesting lifestyle, he supposed. There was almost no information available on the Davis boy. His father had been killed in the war, his mother killed herself, and his brothers were all wards of the state. After asking around, he'd found that Charlie mostly stayed on the farm, and on the rare occasions he did come to town, he kept to himself. Someone thought he was from Melbourne originally. Someone else said that he came here looking for work as a teenager. He had no verification on either source, and frankly, no desire to.

He knocked twice on the weather beaten door, and heard a shuffling of footsteps from the inside. After a moment, the door opened, and it revealed a man younger then he'd expected. Tall and pale, despite his work, Charlie Davis was dressed in a worn shirt, and pants that had been repaired perhaps one too many times. His brow creased slightly when he noticed the uniform.

"Can I help you, Sir?" He asked, politely.  
"I'm looking for Matthew Lawson."  
"He doesn't want anything to do with you army types." Charlie replied, his accent charmingly country.  
"He doesn't have a choice. I'm here on official business." Though still wary, Charlie seemed to relent.  
"Can I take a name for you, then? He'll want to know."  
"Major Lucien Blake with the Australian Army."  
"You best come in then." Charlie relented, before turning on his heel, and heading for another room.

Straining his ears, he listened to the soft conversation being held in the other room, while he took the sitting room in. The sitting room had a single couch, well worn and done up with a sheet perhaps to add a little colour to the otherwise grey room. He noticed on farms things were always grey. There was a small vase with flowers in it sitting on the table, and a half drunk cup of tea still steaming. Charlie's, probably.

After a moment, he hears Charlie's soft footsteps again, followed by a set that had a significant limp, and was walking with a cane. Matthew entered the room first, and stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on his cane.  
"You've done alright for yourself." If Charlie is surprised Matthew knows him, his face doesn't show it.  
"I could say the same for you." He replied, even If it wasn't strictly true. Matthew turns his head left, but doesn't look away from Lucien.  
"Charlie, why don't you help Jean with the hay?"  
"I think he should stay." Lucien replied, turning his eyes to address the younger, who had parted his lips slightly, just about to reply. He shrugged.  
"If that's what you think it best, Major." He replied.  
"Go make some tea, I think." Matthew said, moving to sit.  
"If that's what you think is best, Boss." Charlie replied. He looked at the doctor. "We don't have any milk. Do you take sugar?"  
"No, I'll take it black, thanks." Charlie nodded, and vanished into the kitchen. Matthew took a seat on the floral patterned couch, resting his cane on the couch next to him. Lucien chose to remain standing.

"How did Charlie come to work here?"  
"I took him on as a ward of the state."  
"You did?"  
"It was a hard time for the farm. He was free help. When he came of age he just stayed on. Wasn't like he had anywhere to go."  
"Never took you for a family man."  
"I'm not. He's just cheap." Blake nodded, and despite his dislike for it, small talk was a good way to gain someone's trust and learn about them with little effort. "Still in the army, I assume?"  
"A major."  
"Well done."  
"You could be a major, if you'd stayed on." Matthew looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as Charlie delivered cups of tea. Matthew, he noticed, took his with a lot of sugar. Charlie had put the sugar cubes next to his cup rather then in the tea. Charlie resumed drinking the one he'd been drinking, opting to sit next to Matthew, and folding one leg over the other.

"What do you want, Blake?" Matthew asked, and he looks tired and grey. As most people out in these parts do.  
"I'm looking for a deserter." Charlie raises one eyebrow.  
"Are there any new hands on the farm? Someone who might try and hide someone here?" Matthew shakes his head no.  
"Everyone working at the moment has been here at least ten years." He said, taking a sip of his tea.  
"Even…" He nods at Charlie.  
"I've been here for nearly fifteen." Charlie replies, dryly. Matthew smiles into his teacup. There's a certain domesticity to the look, and it's one he finds himself wanting. But he puts that aside for now. He takes another sip of tea.

"I supposed that since I was in the area, I could take the time to visit an old friend." Matthew looks up at him, and studied is face with those eyes. Those blue eyes.  
"We aren't friends." He replies, and knocks back whatever was left in a single mouthful. Charlie looks to him, his irises are pale against the cornea. Lawson was very tan in comparison to him. He'd expect a farm hand to be a bit less pale and more tan. Odd. He nods, and decided fine. He'd play this Matthew Lawson's way, since that was what he seemed to want. He smiles icily. Charlie looks unsettled at the change, and Lucien supposes he's been rather sheltered here at this farm.

"I'll need to take a look around then." He said setting his tea down on the table. Matthew does the same, setting down his empty cup with a clatter and he's surprised to see it doesn't shatter. Charlie silently sets his down as well.

"Where do you want to look?"  
"Your cellar, your shelter and your sheds." Matthew looks to Charlie.  
"Go get the keys." He does, scurrying out. Matthew gets to his feet slowly, leaning heavily on the cane. The long suppressed doctor part of him wants to look and heal but he doesn't. Charlie is clutching the keys in both hands, and moves quickly to stand near to Matthew. It's slow going but Charlie seems to have nothing to say about it.

They made their way to the cellar slash shelter, and Charlie undid the padlock quickly. Matthew opts to stand out then go down the ladder, sending Charlie in his place. Charlie does so, with his quiet  
"If that's what you think is best, Boss." Once they were down there, Charlie lit up a lantern. Blake decided to do a thorough search.

"If you know where he is, and you tell me, some kind of deal could be worked out for you. Maybe if you joined the army we could wave the charges altogether.

"You were asking people in town about me." He's surprised, that's for sure. He'd thought that Charlie may be dim or something like that, staying around on a farm like this. Apparently not. "Why?"  
"Who told you?"  
"I have contacts in town." Charlie replies, simply. "Why?"  
"I wanted to know about you, what Matthew'd been doing with himself."  
"You could have asked."  
"Would you have told me?" He lifts a burlap sack aside. Only dust and spiders greet him.  
"Probably not." He replies, "But if you hadn't come over here guns a blazin' then Matthew might have. You've gone and fucked that up now."  
"Is that how you speak to all people above your rank?"  
"Sorry. You've gone and fucked that up now, Major." Lucien rolls his eyes, but supposes if Charlie spent so much time on this farm with someone so anti military, it could only be expected. For now, he wouldn't hold it against him.

"Does Matthew treat you well?"  
"As well as any other employer."  
"And you like living here?"  
"I wouldn't have stayed if I didn't." Charlie is a stubborn as his boss, Lucien sighed, as he headed for the stairs. Charlie blew out the lantern and went to stand with Matthew, who was leaning on the back of the farm house.

"Find anything?" Matthew asked, a tinge of humour in his voice. Charlie gave a tiny headshake, and offered his arm so Matthew could stand, something that he accepted. After a tiny bitter laugh, Matthew started making his way towards the equipment shed.

The building was a stain on the landscape, truly. A big ugly off white shed where it seemed machinery was stowed. Walking away from the building towards the homestead was a woman with brown hair styled into fashionable brown curls and parted on the right. She was wearing blue denim pants and a pink shirt, both of which were old and expertly patched.

"Good morning, Jean!" Charlie said, pleasantly, perhaps more enthusiastic than anything else he'd said all morning.  
"Good morning Charlie." She said, with a smile. Charlie left Matthew's side to go take the basket of hand trowels from her. "Matthew." She smiled, before looking at Blake.  
"Major Blake." He said, as Jean nodded her hello. Jean was a handsome woman, Lucien thought. Charlie seemed to have more respect for her then anyone else so far, even Matthew.

"He's here looking for desserters." Charlie said, "Thinks we might be keepin' in the shed." Jean scoffed, and hoisted the lettuce onto her hip.  
"Good luck." She replied, "I'm going into town, Dorothy from Church is ill. I'm bringing her this lettuce." Charlie nods, and kissed her cheek in the way one would with his mother, before entering the shed. Lucien followed after him.

"Are you courting anyone?"  
"Why do you ask?"  
"Nice boy like you, I'm sure you could find a girl." Charlie rolled his eyes, and leant on the wall arms folded defensively.

"No."  
"Really? Are you going to find a girl sometimes soon?"  
"I had a girl. It didn't work out. You spoke to her in town, Matilda O'Brian."  
"I did. She didn't mention you."  
"No. I don't imagine she would." Charlie replied, "Have you looked in here yet? I have work to do yet today." Lucien finds himself amused by Charlie, and leaves, listening out for Charlie to follow him. Behind him, Charlie locked the shed door, and walked up (again) to Matthew, who accepted Charlie's arm to help him stand. Blake watched for several moments, as they stood, before nodding.

"I didn't see any traces of your farm harboring any deserters." Lawson gives him an icy smile.  
"Then I'll see you out." He comments, releasing Charlie's arm to lean on his cane. Charlie followed next to them as they went to the front door. Seeing himself out, Blake paused.

"I hope to see you around, Matthew." He said, with a smile. "I'll stop in when I'm in the area" Matthew just closed the door in his face.

…

It was much later in the afternoon before Charlie spoke of their visitor. He'd spent most of the day working on the boxes of files under the house. He looks up from a bill of sale to him, as Matthew found himself taking a sip of tea to break eye contact.

"That man, Lucien Blake."  
"What about him?"  
"He said he knew you. Was that true?"  
"Once. A very long time ago. Before you were even born." Charlie scoffed, and made a mark on his file with his pencil. He was far better with numbers then Matthew himself ever was. A peaceful silence settles over the farm house, and Matthew thinks that's all the better.


	2. Only If For A Night

_/Some notes: A look at a younger Charlie (MUCH younger, this chapter takes place nearly ten years before chapter 1) and Jean, as well as Mattie and Charlie. Yes, Jean a mild antagonist in this chapter, but nothing she does is with malicious intentions. Anyway, if you liked let me know what you thought!_

Jean Beazley was twenty one when she first arrived on the farm, fresh from her honeymoon and holding onto Christopher's arm. She'd been bright eyed, and excited to settle into life with her new husband, excited to settle into motherhood and most of all, she was excited to be in love. They sat at the homestead, pleased to be in each other's company.

"Jean, I think you must be the most colourful and beautiful woman I ever met." Christopher said, with a smile, and Jean smiled back. She hadn't yet noticed the greyness that surrounded them. It hadn't even crossed her mind that they could be anything other than they were right this second. She didn't understand it, then. Being colourful. Everyone was colourful, weren't they?

That night, Christopher put on the gramophone, and they danced in the living room in bare feet, and Jean was never more happy to prove everyone wrong. A city girl could marry a country man. She was certain that they were going to make the distance, and even if they didn't then they'd be happy, only if for a night.

…

Jean Beazley was forty five when she saw Charlie Davis sitting at the homestead table, where she'd sat with Christopher all those years ago, pencil in hand, drawing on a lose sheet of note paper. It looked like he was designing a ring, a very handsome one at that. The band was thin, and denoted to be gold. Sitting on the ring was a single diamond, with a little pearl on either side.

"What are you drawing?" She asked, taking a seat next to him at the table. Charlie looked at her with those sparkling blue eyes. Since he met Mattie, he'd gotten a sort of colour about him, one she hadn't seen since he was fifteen and he first arrived from the city in a black taxi cab.

"Wedding ring." He said turning the page so she could see it. "Do you like it?"  
"I do." She said, a sort of sadness tugging at her heart strings. "Is it for Mattie?" Charlie gave her that look that she took to mean of course, you fool, and returned to his shading off the underside of the band.

"On the inside, I'll have inscribed our wedding date, and both our names." He said, writing that down as well. She smiled sadly, and put her hand on his arm.  
"You know you can't marry her, don't you?" He hesitated, frowning slightly. Life on the farm had sheltered him from so much heartbreak. Things he should have learned in his teen years.

"Well I know her father doesn't like me, but I figure if I prove to him that I'm able to give Mattie a good life and he sees how much we love each other he-"  
"I don't mean him. I mean you. You can't marry her." Charlie's hand falters, his pencil smears  
"But I love her. Matthew said, that when you love someone that's…That's what you do."  
"I know you love her." She said, kindly. It broke her heart to have to say something like this to a sweet and well meaning boy. "I know why you love her as well." She said, and looked into his eyes. "She's colourful. She's reds and oranges and pinks and purples." Jean said, "She'd music and joy and laughter and excitement, and you live here. On a grey farm. With a grey landscape. With grey crops and grey people." She said, reaching out to stroke a dark curl off his forehead. "I know you didn't chose this place, and I know that it's not fair." She murmured, "But you're a country boy now, and she's a city girl." She said, giving him a sad smile.

She paused, allowing the hurt look to streak his features.  
"If you marry her, you don't have anything other than this farm, and waiting for Matthew to die so it can be your farm. She won't be happy here. She's not a farmer." Jean took his hand and turned it up so he could see the callouses. "See your hands? You've worked. You know how to work. She doesn't. She'll come here, a pretty young wife, and she'll become grey as well. Just like you. Just like me. She'll be just as sad and gaunt as we are. Don't you think she deserves better?" Jean questioned, running her thumbs over Charlie's palms. It broke her heart to have to be the one to tell him. He was only twenty. He didn't deserve such heart break. "She's going to help so many people as a nurse. She's going to marry a nice doctor, and she'll have nice kids. She'll be so happy. Don't you want that for her?" The dam burst and Charlie started to cry. Jean pulled him up to her chest, and ran her fingers through his hair. "I know. I know it hurts." She murmured, "But it's better this way, I promise." She said, "If you want to marry, I can find you a nice farmers daughter. Someone who's used to this life."  
"There is no one else." Charlie whispered, "If I can't have her then I won't have anyone." She sighed softly, but didn't fight him on that, not yet.

…

"You did this, didn't you?" Mattie O'Brian, walking towards her, sensible heels click clacking on the pavement.  
"Did what?"  
"Told Charlie to leave me. You did that." Jean can't believe Mattie would fight her on this. Didn't the girl understand this is better? "I can't believe you."  
"Mattie…"  
"You've already fucked his life, but you weren't happy there, were you? You had to fuck up his happiness. What the Hell is wrong with you?"  
"Young lady!" Mattie was breathing heavily, a picture of rage. "I had nothing to do with Charlie leaving you, If he did it was your own fault." Mattie looked back at her for several moments.  
"You've done a good job on him, you and Matthew Lawson, convincing him that he was only ever going to be a farmer." She said, softly. "Did you even know that he wanted to be a police officer?"  
"What?"  
"Like his father." Mattie spat, and Jean hesitated. "Don't you think that he's old enough to make his own choices?" Jean looked at her, and then looked away.  
"I'm looking out for you." She said, simply, and walked back to the car, leaving the fuming tear streaked Mattie O'Brain in the middle of the street, never to be Mattie Davis.

…

Charlie is sitting on the bench during a Church dance, in Matthew Lawson's suit from the thirties, hands folded neatly in his lap. Next to him is an empty punch glass, and it looks like he may have even had something to eat, if you looked hard enough and saw the very faintest traces of crumbs on his old fashioned waist coat.

A young woman came and sat next to him, and gave him a little smile.  
"Good evening." He said, with a smile. She was possibly the prettiest woman he'd ever seen in his whole life, and for a moment, he's not even upset with Jean for dragging him along to this event, if it meant he got to look at this face. She smiled, and her face lit up.  
"Good evening. I wanted to let you know that your suit looks very nice. " Charlie looked down  
"Thought it was a bit old fashioned myself."  
"It's good, makes you stand out." He cocked half his lips into a lopsided smile.  
"What's a handsome boy like you sitting here alone? You haven't been up to dance all night." She said, folding one leg over the other.  
"I'm not much of a dancer, Miss Maddy." He said, a sparkle in his eye. She grinned broadly, pleased he knew who she was.  
"Nice try. It's Mattie. Short for Matilda. You are?"  
"Charlie. Short for Charles."  
"Well, Charlie short for Charles, do you fancy a dance?" He gave her a bit of a smile, and then nodded, getting to his feet.  
"Alright then, Mattie short for Matilda, if you insist." Mattie took his hand, and pulled him to the dancefloor among the other couples.

…

Jean stood by the punch bowl, watching that girl from the city, the girl that she knew she had been, convince Charlie to come onto the dance floor for the first time that night, and on his face, she saw a smile that she'd never seen before. She turned away, after a moment, to let them have this night, even if it wouldn't last, they deserved this happiness, only if for a night.


End file.
